The Falcon and the Raven 3
by Kamayeth
Summary: Well, here it is: the requisite modern AU that no one asked for. It's shorter than the others, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N:_

 _Me: *finally making progress on my novel*_

 _Familiar Voice in My Head: "Hey! I've got an idea!"_

 _Me: *keeps writing* "I'm pretty sure I'm finished with you, Merlin."_

 _Merlin: "Just look." *conjures plot bunny*_

 _Me: *keeps writing* "Little busy, Merlin."_

 _Merlin: *conjures another plot bunny*_

 _Me: "I'm serious, Merlin."_

 _Merlin: *conjures plot bunny right in front of me*_

 _Plot Bunny: *boop*_

 _Me: "Dang it, Merlin!"_

OoOoOoOoO

Arthur's feet thudded on the stairs as he came down from his room, lured by the amazing smells coming from the pub's kitchen.

He'd officially moved in the day before, and he'd been astonished that the Emryses had a room already made up for him, complete with a Camelot-red blanket embroidered with the golden Pendragon crest.

"You already have a room for me?" he'd asked.

Branwen had shaken her head at him. "We didn't know when you'd return, Arthur, so we've always kept a room for you."

He'd needed to process that thought for a moment, imagining the dark-haired couple in various living spaces through the centuries, always with an extra room furnished but never used, in anticipation of his return. The idea had overwhelmed him and he'd folded Branwen into a gentle embrace. "Thank you."

She'd returned his hug. "It's just so good to have you back."

Now she was standing at the enormous stove, stirring something that made his mouth water. She turned and smiled at him.

"Good morning! You hungry?"

"Famished!"

"I assume you still like sausages, Sire?"

He shook his finger at her. "Don't even start with the 'Sire' stuff. And yes. Yes, I do."

She laughed. "Well, you can help yourself to what's on the table. This'll be ready momentarily."

"Thank you." He snatched a sausage from the heaping plate and popped it in his mouth. He glanced around the kitchen while he chewed and, after swallowing, asked, "Where's Merlin?"

"What, didn't I wake you early enough?"

Arthur smiled at the man just coming up from the cellar. "You didn't wake me at all."

Merlin grinned as he walked toward him. "I know! Isn't it great? And you even dressed yourself, too. I'm very impressed, my lord."

By now, he was standing within arm's reach, so Arthur punched him in the shoulder. "Yeah, yeah. Knock it off."

"Ow. Well, that hurts as much as I remember."

"That's because you're still a girl."

"Hey, now," came a voice from the stove.

"See?" Merlin pouted. "You're gonna get us in trouble with the cook."

Arthur threw an arm around him. "Well, we wouldn't want that now, would we?"

Any response was preempted by the outside kitchen door opening. Branwen squinted at the light-bathed figure who entered. "Morning, Maudie!"

The door closed and Arthur gaped, recognizing the woman who had directed him to the pub when he'd first arrived. "You!"

The woman dipped her head and quirked a smile at him. "Your Majesty."

Merlin blinked at them. "Wait. You two know each other?"

Maudie shrugged. "I may have given him a tiny push in the right direction a few days ago."

Branwen chuckled. "I should've known." Then, "Where's Gavin?"

"Oh, he's coming."

"Wait, wait, wait." Arthur needed to rewind the conversation a bit. "You knew who I was?"

She nodded.

"So, you're a seer?"

She considered the question. "Not like Morgana was, from what I understand. Seers tend to have visions of the future. My gift seems to be anchored firmly in the present."

"I'm not sure I understand."

Merlin cut in. "Basically, Maudie sometimes just _knows_ things. And she's never been wrong."

Just then, the door opened again, letting in another shaft of light and another shadowy figure. When the door closed and the man turned around, Arthur blinked. Blinked again.

"Gwaine?"

Merlin pointed at the newcomer triumphantly. "Told you."

Branwen, taking pity on Arthur's obvious confusion, elaborated. "Arthur, this is Gavin, Maudie's husband. And although the likeness is astounding, he isn't Gwaine, at least as far as we can tell."

Gavin strode forward and gave Arthur a firm handshake. "It's an honor to meet you, my liege."

"Please, I'm not anyone's liege anymore. Just call me Arthur."

"Or Princess," Merlin muttered.

"Shut up, Merlin."

Branwen snorted. "Just like old times."

The door opened once again to admit a spirited red-headed pair arguing in matching Irish brogues. The young man was gesticulating wildly to the young woman beside him. 

"Jaz, I don't see how that could possibly make any…" he trailed off when she stopped and his gaze followed hers to Arthur. His brows drew together. "Who's the new guy?"

Merlin turned. "Arthur, meet Jazmine and Jaxson, the Chandler twins." He turned back to the siblings. "Chandlers, this is Arthur."

Jazmine's hands flew to her mouth, her green eyes wide, but Jaxson crossed his arms and smirked. "So his royal pratness finally decided to make an appearance."

"Jaxson!" his sister hissed.

"What? That's what Merlin calls him."

Arthur tore his eyes away from the autumn-leaf hair falling gently to Jazmine's shoulders to shoot a look at Merlin. "Still?"

Merlin's grin was sheepish. "Not… recently?"

Jaxson gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like "Yesterday," before Branwen, shaking her head, brought the rest of breakfast. Place settings appeared as the group arranged themselves around the table, Merlin tugging Arthur into the space beside him. Arthur turned to him in time to see the telltale glow of magic in his eyes. Suddenly, they were no longer in the kitchen.

Arthur gazed at their new surroundings. Not quite as large as the kitchen, its earthen walls were windowless, but adorned with tapestries depicting familiar faces: Leon, Lancelot, Percival, Elyan, Gwaine, Guinevere, Morgana, and even Gaius, all looking as vibrant as they'd been in his memories. They seemed almost alive in the flickering torchlight.

"I still don't see the resemblance," he heard Gavin mutter.

The ceiling was supported by four large pillars, each carved into the likeness of what modern sensibilities would call mythical creatures.

But Arthur knew better. As he approached one, he realized that not only were they not mythical, they were not unfamiliar. He ran his fingers over miniaturized, perfectly carved scales, eyes drifting down the image until he found the nameplate beneath the claws: _Kilgarrah_.

He moved to the next pillar, a great winged cat. _Trill_.

Opposite Kilgarrah was another dragon, smaller, more delicate. _Aithusa_.

And finally, across from Trill, a griffin. _Zephyr_.

He stroked the carved feathers, remembering how surprised he'd been when Zephyr arrived at the castle, looking for the girl who had saved her life while she was still in the womb. She'd stayed, becoming fast friends with not only Branwen, but Aithusa as well. Arthur believed that Camelot had owed a great deal of her peace to the elaborate aerial games the two played over the citadel. At least, he knew _he'd_ have thought twice about attacking a city with such creatures flying about.

He shook himself out of his memories and returned to his place at the table. It was only then that he realized that it wasn't the table from the kitchen. He reached out a trembling finger to trace the intricate knots carved into the surface. "Merlin," he breathed, "is this…?"

"It is," the warlock answered quietly. "I took it when Camelot finally fell and Branwen and I have kept it safe for you. Welcome back to the Round Table, Arthur."


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur spent most of breakfast asking questions, finding out what he could about the new members of his Round Table. Gavin was a druid like his wife, and was a skilled healer. The twins had no magic but did have some martial arts training. Jaxson was lethal with daggers, while Jazmine preferred sai.

Jaxson also mentioned some basic computer skills. "I'm not as good as Branwen, though," he admitted.

Arthur's eyebrows rose and he stared at Branwen. "Computer nerd?"

She shrugged. "Come to find out, programming's not that different from spellcrafting."

"Merlin's not bad, either," Jaxson added.

"Yes, well," Branwen sniffed, "Merlin cheats."

"It's not cheating!" Merlin protested indignantly. "It's utilizing available resources."

"And heaven forbid anyone try to do anything on your laptop with all the hoodoo."

"Hoodoo's American magic." His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You've been watching Supernatural again, haven't you?"

"What? Jared and Jensen are cuties."

"Not to mention Misha," Jazmine added.

Merlin's face fell as they giggled. "And I'm not?"

Branwen took Merlin's pouting face in her hands. "You, my love, are the cutest." She kissed his nose. "But you still cheat."

He wrapped his arms around her with a predatory grin. "I'll show _you_ cheating."

"Ooh. Promise?"

" _Whoa_ -kay!" Jaxson held up his hands against the onslaught of affection. "Someone rein in the old people!"

Merlin scowled at him. "Watch it, kid."

"Or what? You'll come after me with your cane?"

"It's a _staff_ and you bet I will."

"Alright, children," Gavin interrupted, "now might be a good time to bring Arthur up to speed."

Merlin sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right." With a glow of eyes, the dishes magicked themselves away. His demeanor turned solemn. "Do you remember how the prophecy said you would return when Albion's need was greatest?

Arthur nodded.

"Well, about the time you were reborn, Branwen and I discovered that someone had found the Crystal Cave and had been looting it. We set up wards to prevent any further thefts, but dozens of crystals had already been taken." Merlin frowned at the memory. "And then, just a couple of years ago, people in the magical community started disappearing. We learned that every one of those missing had a crystal, or a piece of one, in their possession before they vanished."

"So, this person stole the crystals, distributed them, and then kidnapped the people who had them?" At Merlin's nod, Arthur asked "Why hasn't this been all over the news?"

"The disappearances have been few and far enough between to not raise suspicion. And we didn't want to draw attention anyway, so we've been dealing with it ourselves."

"Do you have any theories about motive?"

"No."

Arthur frowned. Another royal may have been on the throne, but he considered the citizens of the United Kingdom – Albion in all but name – to be _his_ people, even now. And someone had been spiriting them away for who knew what nefarious purpose. It had to stop. "So, what's our plan?"

Merlin exchanged a look with Branwen. "Well, we found a crystal fragment in a bracelet at a secondhand shop. Branwen purchased it just the other day."

"Can I see it?"

Merlin nodded at Branwen, who lifted her hand to let him inspect the bracelet on her wrist.

Arthur gaped at her in horror. "You're _wearing_ it?!" He turned to stare at Merlin. "You're using Branwen as _bait_?"

Jazmin made an expansive gesture. " _Thank_ you. See? I'm not the only one."

Branwen ignored her and instead addressed Arthur. "I'm the logical choice. For all we know, this could be a trap specifically for Merlin. So I get taken, scout out the situation, and send intel back. Then Merlin can prepare and," she shrugged, "cue the cavalry."

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but Merlin cut in. "Look I don't like this, either, but it's the best plan we've got at the moment. I've added an enchantment to the setting that will leave a trail should Branwen be… incapacitated. Of course, now that you're here, I'm much more confident in the success of our 'cavalry'. Oh!" He snapped his fingers, "That reminds me…" His eyes went golden and a very familiar weapon appeared on the table.

Arthur's eyes widened and he barked out a surprised laugh. "My sword! You saved it for me?"

"Nah. I actually threw it in a lake. Freya gave it back to me, though." He took a sudden interest in a spot on the wall. "You know. Eventually."

"Ah, yes. Your 'Lady of the Lake'. Oh, and speaking of the legends, imagine my surprise when I discovered that my sword allegedly had a name."

Merlin grinned at him. "So I embellished the stories a little. Sue me."

Arthur shook his head. "Really, though, Merlin? _Excalibur_?"

"I thought it sounded cool."

"Which is why we don't let you name things anymore, love."

Merlin wrinkled his nose at Branwen, who mirrored the expression.

"So," Arthur interrupted before their behavior could escalate again, "What's our next move?"

Merlin shrugged. "We wait."

OoOoOoOoO

Arthur was panting, debating the wisdom of removing one hand from his sword to wipe away the sweat that kept dripping in his eyes. He turned slowly, keeping his opponent in sight as she circled him.

When Jazmine had approached him the day after his first breakfast at the Round Table and invited him to spar, he'd agreed, eager for the opportunity to see her in action. Well, to have a legitimate excuse to stare at her, if he was honest, and he'd had the very chivalrous intention of going easy on her. That intention shattered, however, when it had taken her less than a minute to block his sword and deliver what would've been a killing strike. The magic of the pub's private courtyard kept their blades safely blunted, but her blow had still bruised, both his body and his ego.

But then she'd looked so… _disappointed_ , as if he'd let her down in some way, and he discovered that he really didn't like that look on her.

At all.

So he'd thrown caution to the wind and gone after her with everything he had.

After a flurry of surprised defensive moves, she'd found her footing again and then she'd _laughed_ , and Arthur's heart had lurched in a way that had nothing to do with exertion.

"I'm impressed." Her voice drew his thoughts back into the present. "It's rare to find someone so skilled with a sword in this day and age."

"Well, I _am_ the Once and Future King."

"Indeed, Sire."

"I thought I said not to call me that."

She shrugged. "You started it."

"I suppose I did."

"Care to start something else?" Her eyes twinkled with mischief and he couldn't help but grin.

"Don't mind if I do." A notion occurred to him and he pursued it without thinking. " _Merida."_

Her mouth fell open. "I can't believe you just called me that!"

"Well, if the shoe fits..." His eyes wandered upward, "...or the hair..."

Her look of indignation turned more calculating. "Well, I may _vaguely_ resemble a Disney princess, but I know for a fact that you're a bona-fide Disney prince... _Wart_."

It was Arthur's turn to look utterly scandalized. "Oh, you'll pay for that."

"Bring it."

Before they could fully engage again, though, a disgusted noise came from the direction of the pub's door.

"Ugh. You two are starting to sound like Ye Olde Married Couple."

Arthur watched an attractive blush bloom across Jazmine's cheeks even as he felt the heat rise in his own face.

"Is there something you need, brother mine, or did you come out here just to run your mouth?"

He smirked at her obvious discomfiture. "I came to tell you that breakfast is ready. Consider the commentary an added bonus." His eyes widened and he ducked back through the door, Jazmine's thrown sai thunking against the doorframe. She sent an irritated huff at his retreating back.

"Wait. Breakfast?" Arthur asked. "It feels like we've been out here for hours."

She smiled at him. "We have. Time moves slower out here. Come on!" She grabbed his hand and his heart did another flip. "I'll show you something else that's cool!" She dragged Arthur behind her and picked her sai up off the ground before pulling him inside. She stopped just on the other side of the threshold and turned to him. "Now, how do you feel?"

Arthur, still tingling from whatever the doorway had done, took stock. His fingers went first to his hair, no longer plastered to his forehead, then slid down his shirt, no longer damp with perspiration. "I feel," he lifted an arm and sniffed cautiously, "… clean."

Her smile was dazzling. "Right?"

"This is Merlin's doing, I take it?"

"Well, he cast the spell, but Branwen constructed it." She shook her head. "The two of them individually are brilliant, but the things they do together boggle my mind."

"Can't argue with that."

She turned serious. "And I really don't envy whoever is behind these disappearances, because once they take Branwen, they're going to have a very, _very_ bad day."


	3. Chapter 3

Merlin was tired. It had been a long, busy day, but the last of the night's patrons had finally wandered out and allowed them to lock up. Arthur had been distracted all day, and he was sure it had something to do with a certain red-haired sparring partner.

Wiping the bar clean of last-minute spills, he leaned down to accept a kiss from Branwen as she edged past him, carrying a tray of dirty beer mugs to be washed. The swinging doors had barely stopped moving behind when there was a crash and he spun toward the kitchen.

His mind suddenly filled with images. He vaguely heard Arthur's voice call his name, but all he could do was watch – a decrepit building, a crumbling stairwell, a large, open room filled with bright light and modern equipment. And emotions – confusion, desperation.

Fear.

Then... nothing.

His magic howled in pain and rage as a part of itself, woven and tightened and strengthened through the centuries, was suddenly, utterly severed.

Merlin echoed it with his own shout of anguish, the agony of his magic overwhelming every sense. Branwen was _gone_ and he floundered in the vast emptiness that she'd left behind.

He came back to himself slowly, finding himself trembling on the floor with Arthur's panicked face above him, his hand gently shaking Merlin's shoulder.

"Merlin?"

Merlin tried to speak, but the enormity of what had just happened washed over him again and all that came out was a broken, "Branwen."

Arthur glanced toward the kitchen, seeming at a loss for what to do. "Let's at least get you up off the floor, yeah?"

Merlin nodded and allowed Arthur to help him to his feet and support him as he staggered into the kitchen, around shards of glass, and into a chair, still shaking.

Arthur was debating the wisdom of leaving, just for a moment, to get a blanket from upstairs when the door burst open and Maudie rushed in, Gavin at her heels. She went immediately to Merlin and knelt in front of him, taking his face in her hands. "What happened?"

"Branwen. They took her."

Her face softened. "Well, that was something we expected, wasn't it?"

Merlin shook his head. "Not like this. She's _gone_ , Maudie."

Maudie's eyebrows drew together and she stood, allowing Gavin to take her place and check Merlin for injuries. She grabbed a broom and started to sweep as she concentrated. When all of the pieces were in a neat little pile, she announced, "She's not dead."

"What?"

"Branwen's alive. I'm sure of it."

"How can that be? I can't sense her _anywhere_."

"I don't know exactly. It's as if she's… cut off from us. Hidden." She turned back to Merlin. "Was she able to communicate with you at all?"

Merlin thought back. "Yes. It was disjointed, though. Just images and emotions. Do you think her magic was being suppressed somehow?"

"It's possible. And it may be that the enchantment on the chain is what allowed her to bypass any shielding they'd put around her, at least a little."

"The chain! The spell should've left a trail!" He closed his eyes, his magic picking up the meandering line of Branwen's most recent movements, to the point where it cut off in the middle of the kitchen. He concentrated and cast his protesting magic out in an ever-widening circle, searching for where the line appeared again. Farther and farther out he searched, his magic spreading ever thinner and finally there was a glimmer at the edge of his senses. Distantly, he felt something drape over his shoulders and a warm mug was pushed into his hands. He took a sip without thinking – tea, hot and sweet and exactly what he needed.

He regrouped his magic and sent a stronger push in the direction of the glimmer. It resolved itself into a short trail that, again, ended abruptly. He checked this position against the ley lines and sent the data to his laptop. Then he worked his way back to himself.

He opened his eyes, slumped back in his chair, and downed the rest of the tea in one go, only then addressing the expectant faces. "She's in London." His eyes went a dim gold and his laptop clattered inelegantly onto the table. He brought up the information he'd sent, overlaid a map on it, and pointed at the screen. "There."

Arthur immediately went into strategist mode and Merlin was grateful to let him take charge while he nestled into the blanket. He listened absently to Arthur discuss plans with Gavin and Maudie until their voices faded into indistinct noises to his exhausted mind.

He came around somewhat when he felt strong, gentle hands lift him out of the chair and help him up the stairs. Arthur quietly got him ready for bed, a role reversal that Merlin would've teased him about had the circumstances behind it not been so dire.

The sheets were cold when Arthur tucked him in and he shivered, missing Branwen's familiar warmth. When Arthur left, Merlin gathered her pillow to him and wept before finally falling into exhausted sleep.

OoOoOoOoO

Merlin stumbled into the kitchen rubbing gritty eyes against the pounding in his head. Arthur, Gavin, and Maudie were already, or maybe still, there, and they'd been joined by the twins.

Maudie caught sight of him first, and he allowed her to cluck over him. Soon she had him ensconced at the table with tea and more food than he could possibly eat and Gavin hovering behind him, working his healing magic on his headache. He picked at his food as Arthur settled beside him.

"How're you holding up?"

Merlin shrugged. 

"Yeah, that was a dumb question."

"I can't lose her."

"I know."

"Do you?" Somewhere a dam broke deep inside Merlin and words spilled out like floodwater. "Branwen has been my constant, my _sanity_ for the last 1400 years, Arthur. My magic may have kept me alive, but she kept me _living_. Without her I would've… I don't know, turned myself into a… a… _tree_ or something _ages_ ago! I don't know how to _be_ without her and I'm not entirely sure at this point that I'd be able to survive without her." His voice went quiet. "Or if I'd want to."

Arthur placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You're right. I can't begin to imagine what it must've been like. But you've lived, you've both _survived_ for this long. I don't see that changing now."

"Arthur, you don't understand. My magic has kept us alive waiting for _you_. Now that you're here…"

Arthur's mouth fell open at the implication. "You're not sure you're immortal anymore."

Merlin nodded and turned his attention back to pushing the food around on his plate. Arthur squeezed his shoulder. "Then it sounds like it's time to cue the cavalry." He then addressed the kitchen at large. "Right. Does everyone have everything they need?" He received a chorus of affirmations. "Gavin, is your contact ready for us?"

Gavin's eye's lost focus for a moment before returning to Arthur. "He is."

"Excellent." He turned to his gaping warlock. "We're ready when you are."

Merlin gazed at them as if he'd never truly seen them before, then nodded and stood. His laptop was still on the table, so he clicked it closed and tucked it under his arm. He then held his free hand over his plate, which flattened and boxed itself around his unfinished breakfast., then shrunk to an accommodating size. He shoved it into a pocket and spun back around, eyes determined. "Where to?"


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur needed to break the tension, to distract Merlin if only just a little. His mind spun, searching for a topic, and finally settled on, "So you couldn't just leave your breakfast?"

At first he thought the warlock wasn't going to answer, but then Merlin shrugged. "Well, I might want it later. Or Branwen might. Besides, no one just _abandons_ Maudie's cooking."

"It's just so terribly _practical_ of you, Merlin."

"Don't get used to it. I've made it my life's mission to be as impractical as possible as often as possible."

"Really. And why is that?"

Merlin gave him the first real smile he'd seen since Branwen had disappeared. "Because it annoys you."

Arthur grinned back. "Oh, so like everything else you do."

"Nah. This is different."

"How so?"

"Annoying you is the sole purpose."

Arthur cuffed him affectionately on the back of the head, relieved that Merlin seemed to be in better spirits, although there was still tightness in his shoulders and his smiles faded quickly.

They'd apparated (a term Merlin freely admitted to stealing from the Harry Potter books) into the flat of a druid who lived close to where Branwen's trail ended. They'd left Gavin and Maudie there, ready to assist when (not if, Merlin kept telling himself) they returned with Branwen. Arthur had tried to convince Jazmine to stay, as well, but she'd adamantly refused. So here they were, walking through a less than reputable-looking neighborhood in London. Merlin had smiled a little, aching inside, when Arthur had grabbed Jazmine's hand as if to reassure himself of her continued presence.

"You know, this sort of reminds me of our old hunting trips."

"Oh, yes, Sire," Merlin answered, pointedly ignoring Arthur's scowl. "Except that there's no grass. Or trees. Or horses. Or wild animals. Or-"

"Shut up, Merlin."

"Killing," Merlin finished, then added, "There are still technically bandits, though, so I guess that's something."

"There's also still your endless prattle."

"That you missed."

"Did not," Arthur insisted, his smile giving lie to his words.

"Whatever you say, Sire." Then his demeanor changed, becoming wary, and he held up his hand, bringing the group to a halt. "We're close."

"Are there any wards?"

"Not that I can tell. There are cameras, but I've made sure they won't pick us up."

Arthur nodded, impressed. "We should still be cautious. Watch for guards. We want to get as much of a jump on them as we can."

They all nodded and Merlin took the lead for the last couple of blocks.

The building looked just as it had in Merlin's vision: nondescript, crumbling, nothing outwardly indicating what was happening inside. It was apparently deserted.

Jaxson glanced around. "Something's not right."

Arthur nodded. "Which is why we're here."

Jaxson shook his head. "No. Look." He pointed. "The building has no security cameras, even though there are cameras on the buildings on either side. There's no movement, no lights. And you'd think there'd be at least lookouts, but there aren't. There aren't even any pedestrians. At this point, I'd be surprised if the door was locked."

Merlin's brows drew together at the thought and he reached out with his magic to test Jaxson's theory. "You're right. It's open."

"So either they really aren't expecting anyone to come or…"

"They already know we're coming and they don't care," Jazmine finished.

Arthur cast an appraising look at the building. "So it's most likely a trap." He raised his eyebrows at Merlin, who shrugged.

"It's not like we have much of a choice. Branwen's trail ends here and if we're going to find her, this is where we have to start."

"Right. So into the trap."

Merlin gave a sharp nod. "Into the trap."

"Into the trap," the twins echoed.

OoOoOoOoO

Merlin led the way across the street and pushed the door open slowly, anticipating noise that never came. He normally appreciated well-oiled hinges but, in this case, he found the ghostly lack of squeak unnerving. He did his best to tamp down his ever-growing feeling of dread as they descended the staircase.

He led them down a short hallway and stopped at a nondescript, windowless door. He took a deep breath. "This is it," he whispered.

Arthur put his ear to the door and listened a moment. "I can't hear anything."

"And I can't sense anyone, but Maudie did say that Branwen has been hidden, so maybe others have been, too. We should be careful."

"Right. My sword then, if you please, old friend."

Merlin's eyes turned golden and the blade materialized in Arthur's hand. He gave it a twirl as the twins drew their own weapons.

Merlin eased the door open, every sense on high alert. It opened onto another staircase, this one of metal, giving him a view of the whole room below. When no danger immediately presented itself, he entered cautiously, the others creeping after him, blinking in the harsh light.

The room was just as Branwen had seen it, large and filled with equipment whose purpose Merlin could only guess at, and seemingly devoid of life. Something about it grated on him, but whether it was the too-bright lighting, or the constant electrical hum, or something else, he couldn't say. He turned to the others. "Let's find Branwen and get out of here."

They nodded and silently dispersed around the room. Merlin headed for the likely-looking spot that seemed to be curtained off from the rest of the room. His magic told him that there was something back there, but he could coax no further information from it. He was almost there when Jazmine's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Oh, gods. There are people in these."

She was standing amidst what at first glance seemed to be large storage freezers. The sides sported biohazard symbols and each lid was secured with a heavy-duty padlock. The sudden vision of Branwen trapped in one of them had Merlin sprinting toward Jazmine, arriving just ahead of Arthur and Jaxson.

There were small viewing windows in the lids, just big enough to frame the face of the person within. Merlin started searching down one row and the others followed suit. It was several moments before Jaxson called, "Here! I found her!"

Merlin rushed to him, nearly colliding with the container in his haste. He leaned over, peered through the tiny window, his breath of relief nearly a sob when he saw her face.

She appeared to be sleeping. Although he could see her, he still couldn't _sense_ her. He stepped back and, suddenly, all the fear and worry he'd been feeling transformed into pure, blind rage. Someone had stolen Branwen from him – his sweet, wise, funny, courageous Branwen, and locked her inside this _thing_. Arthur may have been the other side of his coin, but Branwen was the other half of his _soul_ and whoever had torn her away from him was going to pay.

Dearly.

He focused his magic on the padlock and it cracked into pieces with a sound like a gunshot. He pried the lid open and the wave of magic that was released was so intense his knees nearly buckled. He gripped the edge, white-knuckled, until the dizziness passed. Then, with utmost care, he lifted Branwen out.

The foreign magic still clung to her, but it was fading and Merlin's magic was starting to catch faint, brief glimpses of Branwen's beneath it.

He sank to the floor and settled her in his lap, searching for any sign of consciousness. When none seemed forthcoming, he jostled her gently. "Branwen?" He caressed her face. "Sweetheart? Wake up. Come back to me."

To his relief, she drew a shuddering breath and her eyes fluttered open. He smiled softly as they found his face. "Hey."

She frowned. "Go away," she whispered.

He was sure his heart had stuttered to a stop. "What?" he choked. "Branwen-"

"No. You're not real, so just go away."

"Sweetheart, I am real and I'm going to get you out of here."

"That's what you said last time, and then you," her lip trembled and a tear slid out of her eye as she looked away, "you left me."

"No! Branwen, I didn't, I would never…" he trailed off as the realization hit him – she'd been _hallucinating_.

And not only had she known it, she believed she still was. The magic that had cut them off from each other was still preventing her from sensing him, just as he was still having trouble sensing her. He needed to get rid of it.

He concentrated on the magic, seeking out the structure of the underlying spell. When it revealed itself, he was amazed at the complexity. There were key components that he recognized, though, and he did what he could to deconstruct them, compensating for his lack of skill with raw power.

It was messy and inelegant, but it achieved what he desired. The foreign magic dissipated and Merlin's magic reached greedily for Branwen.

She gasped and her wide eyes returned to his face. She reached a tentative hand up to touch it. "Merlin?"

He nodded, fighting back tears. "Yeah."

And then her arms were around him and she was sobbing into his shoulder and he was crushing her to him like he'd never let her go again, noting distantly the quiet cheers and high-fives happening around them.

"Such a sweet reunion."

Merlin's head snapped around at the unfamiliar voice. A man had appeared and was observing their tableau. "And as loath as I am to interrupt, you and I have much to discuss, Dragonlord."


	5. Chapter 5

_Dragonlord._

Merlin frowned at the title that had become meaningless centuries before. "I don't know what you've heard, but I'm no longer a dragonlord."

"Ah, but I beg to differ. Just because the dragons died out doesn't mean that your powers have. If dragons were to return, you would still be their kin."

"That could never happen, so if you don't mind, we're going to go, and we're going to take these people with us."

"Oh, I'm afraid I can't let you do that." His eyes glowed with magic and the sound of the doors locking echoed through the room. "You see, Emrys, you're wrong. Dragons _can_ come back. And they will, with your help."

"I don't understand."

"Then allow me to enlighten you." His magic pushed back the curtain to reveal two large tanks, each containing, suspended in clear liquid, a dragon.

They were strange, beaked things with odd, elongated scales the likes of which Merlin had never seen before, one mottled red and purple, the other sporting shades of green and gold. A sense of _wrongness_ emanated from them like a miasma.

Merlin got to his feet, still holding Branwen close. "What have you done?"

The man barked out an incredulous laugh. "Why, I've only married ancient magic to modern technology in order to bring back creatures that should never have died out to begin with."

"And who are you to make that judgment?"

The man inclined his head. "You may call me Draconis."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Well _that's_ original." Arthur snorted behind him.

Anger flashed across Draconis' face before he schooled his expression back into a bland smile. "I need your help."

"No."

"You don't understand. Without you the dragons will never be fully alive."

"No."

His face fell, and he looked genuinely confused. "Whyever not?"

Merlin shook his head, remembering back to when the world was newer, and dragons had had a place in it. He tried to picture them in the context of modern times, and found that he couldn't. "This world is no longer suitable for dragons."

Draconis regarded him sourly. "I didn't expect _you_ , of all people, to be so… short-sighted."

Merlin breathed out what might've been a laugh, but for the lack of humor behind it. "Oh, I lost the ability to be short-sighted about a thousand years ago."

"So you won't help me…"

"No."

"… willingly."

Merlin's arm tightened around Branwen and he threw up a shield against the implied threat, only to gape in horror as the dragons twitched.

Draconis smiled. "You see, Emrys? I've made accommodations for any… reluctance on your part."

"But," Merlin's thoughts spun as the creatures continued to spasm, "a dragon needs a _name_ to hatch."

Draconis' eyebrows rose. "Do they, now? How interesting. I shall have to add that information to my research notes. However, I do not need my dragons to be hatched, merely," he seemed to search for the word he wanted, "quickened, if you will. And for that, any dragonlord magic will suffice."

Merlin thought quickly, trying to find a way out of the conundrum. His shield was feeding the dragons, which were becoming more and more active the longer he held it. But if he let it fall, Branwen, Arthur, and the twins would all be in danger.

Branwen's voice drifted into his thoughts. _'Let me handle the shield.'_

' _No,'_ he told her, noting that she was already starting to tremble simply from standing. _'You're too weak.'_

' _I don't see that we have much of a choice.'_

Reluctantly, he nodded and allowed her to put up her shield before lowering his own.

Draconis stared at her. "That's not possible. Her magic -" he was cut off by a resounding _CRACK_ from one of the tanks.

Rather than quieting the dragons, the shift from Merlin's magic to Branwen's seemed to have the opposite effect – both dragons were now thrashing in their tanks, awake and twisting and trying to orient themselves. One of the tanks was leaking liquid from an enormous crack in the side.

Branwen let the shield drop. There seemed little point to it now that Draconis had what he wanted and was focused solely on the creatures. Merlin frowned as the man crooned encouragingly at the writhing dragons, his face rapturous. Something was definitely wrong.

Branwen gasped as the purple-and-red managed to hook a claw on the edge of the tank and pull itself up. "Merlin," she looked up at him, eyes wide, "they're part griffin."

Merlin watched as the dragon shook its head, drenching Draconis in a shower of liquid. The scales on its neck fluffed into a mane of feathers.

"Draconis! Get away from them!"

He laughed. "Whyever would I do that? Look at them! They're _magnificent_!"

The creature was staring intently at him, cocking its head to one side, and then the other as he spoke. Encouraged, Draconis cooed, "Come on, then. Out you come, my beauty."

Amazingly, the creature seemed to understand what was wanted of him and began scrabbling at the lip of the tank, finally falling onto the floor in a rather undignified heap.

By this time the green-and-gold had pulled her head over the top of her tank as well, and was watching with interest as the man slowly approached her sibling. The purple-and-red, having picked himself up, noticed Draconis' approach and drew back in alarm. The man froze and drew breath to speak, but whatever reassurances he was about to make were drowned out as the creature shrieked at him, the sound an odd combination of guttural roar and high-pitched keening.

The creature's attention was pulled abruptly away by Merlin's answering roar, and Draconis, eyes wide with terror, took full advantage of his dragon's momentary confusion to magic himself away. The green-and-gold, clambering out of her tank, startled at the sudden absence and fell to the floor with an angry hiss. Her sibling, apparently interpreting the sound as a threat, turned toward her with such speed that his tail shattered the tank he'd been in. His sister shrieked in alarm before he was on her, the pair of them a roiling tangle of mottled colors, destroying everything around them.

Merlin's second roar fell on deaf ears and he scowled. "Right. Time to end this." He threw a fireball at them and then watched, horrified, as the flames dissipated into a glittering cloud before being absorbed into the scales. The creatures visibly grew.

"Branwen! You said that they're part griffin. Can you communicate with them?"

"I'll try."

She concentrated, brows furrowed, for several heartbeats before she shook her head. "No go."

"Well then," Arthur hefted his sword as he spoke, "it looks like I'll need to dispatch them." He started toward the brawl, but was stopped by Merlin's hand on his arm.

"I agree, but we need to calm or restrain them somehow, or you'll never get close enough to do any real damage."

"I can try."

"No, Arthur. Please. I just got you back. I can't lose you again so soon."

"What's the alternative?"

Jaxson stepped up. "Let me have a go. I can throw daggers from here."

Merlin shook his head. "Only blades forged in a dragon's breath can harm a dragon."

"There's something else I can try." They turned to look at Branwen and she continued, "It might calm them down or," she cast a wary eye at the creatures, "it might make them angrier."

Merlin, following her train of thought, nodded. "Right." He turned and pointed at the twins. "You two! I'm going to send you and those containers to the first floor. Get the people out and do what you can to help them." He waited for their acknowledgement, then his eyes went gold. All of the locks popped open, but the containers stayed stubbornly where they were.

Merlin swore. "Okay, plan B, then. It looks like Draconis sealed this room against any magic but his own, so you're staying here. Defend them the best you can. Arthur?"

"Let me guess. You've got a bad feeling?"

"Just… be ready for anything."

Arthur grinned and twirled his sword. "Now you're talking."

Merlin smiled a little at Arthur's bravado before turning back to Branwen.

"Go for it."

She nodded, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and _shrieked_.

Merlin slammed his hands over his ears, the sound louder than he'd anticipated in the enclosed space. He saw that the others, too, were trying to cover their ears, and even the dragons had stopped fighting and were pawing at the air around their heads.

The sound finally faded and Branwen, bent nearly double, drew a gasping breath, coughed, and drew another. Merlin put an arm around her and she leaned into him, but her eyes were on the dragons. They shook their heads a few times, then fixed her with identical stares. Merlin was just beginning to hope that it had worked when they both let out their strange keening roars and charged.

Arthur and Jazmine dodged one direction and Jaxson and Merlin, dragging Branwen with him, dodged another. The dragons split up, the green-and-gold following the first two, her brother intent on the other three.

"Now what?!" Arthur shouted as he ran.

"I don't know!" Merlin called back. "I'm thinking!"

"Well, think faster!"

"Oh, yes," Merlin ducked with Branwen and Jaxson behind a long table, barely avoiding the snapping jaws that tried to follow. "Very constructive, Sire!"

"Just shut up and figure something out!"

Merlin was about to retort when Branwen suddenly changed direction, nearly pulling him off balance. He stumbled after her and then saw where she was heading – another set of metal stairs against the far wall. They appeared to be too narrow to allow the creature to follow them but he wanted to be sure.

"Jaxson! Duck!"

Jaxson barely dodged the blast of magic as it sailed past and scrambled up the stairs after them, letting out a huff of relief when the dragon was too wide to squeeze between the handrail and the wall. They left him below, screeching in frustration.

"Dude."

"Yeah, sorry about the short notice."

"Nah, dude. That was awesome!"

Meanwhile, the other dragon had driven Arthur and Jazmine back toward their entry point. Arthur had Jazmine behind him and his sword appeared to be doing enough damage to keep the creature at bay, but he couldn't get close enough to land a killing blow.

"Arthur!"

There was a grunt as Arthur blocked a claw-swipe. "Little busy here, Merlin!"

"Yeah, I can see that! Get up the stairs, turniphead!"

Arthur feinted, then scrambled with Jazmine for the staircase. "When we get out of here, we're going to have a very long, very overdue discussion about your lack of respect!"

"I seem to recall that you've tried that before, on several different occasions!"

"Well, maybe this time it'll finally penetrate that thick skull!"

"That's no way to speak to your elders!"

"Elder doesn't necessarily mean better!"

"BOYS!" Branwen watched with satisfaction as their mouths clamped shut in unison. "This really isn't the time!" Their eyes followed her pointing finger to the red-and-purple, who was contemplating the stairs. As they watched, he bit down on the handrail and tugged. The entire staircase shook alarmingly. Merlin spun and tried the door that the stairs let to, but it wouldn't budge, by force or by magic.

"Okay, that's not good."

"You think?"

Merlin scowled at his wife. "Don't _you_ start."

"Can if I want," she answered absently, watching as Arthur struggled to open his own door, to no avail. "That was some spell Draconis cast."

"Can you counter it?"

The staircase shuddered again, harder. "I don't think we have that kind of time."

The green-and-gold, who had been watching her brother intently, gave Arthur's staircase an experimental bite.

"Oh, no you don't," he told her, descending far enough to swing at her with his sword. She hissed, then ducked under the stairs, biting at the steps while Arthur tried to stab at her from above.

Merlin could only watch in growing frustration. He was Emrys, the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth, _and_ the last dragonlord, and he was helpless against these strange hybrids. There was a very good chance that they, as well as everyone else, were going to die because his magic was useless.

"Hey, Grandpa!"

The new nickname drew his attention to Arthur, who was busily harassing the dragon with his sword.

"I was thinking," he swiped at a wing that came into range, allowing Merlin to interrupt.

"Well, maybe you should _not_ , right now?"

"Nah, I've got this. Do you remember," sidestep, "when the two of you fought Lilith?"

"Lilith?"

"Yes, Merlin," block, "Demon Queen? Lived in a bowl? Do keep up."

"Of course I _remember_ , prat! What about it?"

"As I recall, the two of you worked rather brilliantly together."

"We always work brilliantly together!"

"Really, Merlin? I figured that since wisdom comes with age that you'd be positively _brimming_ with it, but I see that you're still an idiot."

Branwen grabbed at the handrail as the stairs shook again. "Do you have a point, Sire?"

Arthur grinned, pleased that he'd gotten a rise out of her, too, and gestured at the hybrids. "These things are part dragon and part griffin, right? Maybe you need to speak to them as such."

Merlin's mind raced. Speak to them in some sort of hybrid language? Was that even possible? He turned to Branwen who, apparently anticipating his question, was holding up a finger to stave it off. She had on what he affectionately thought of as her "thinking face" and hope swelled in him.

She nodded and turned wide eyes to him. "I think it might work."

He nodded back at her. "Tell me what to do."

She shrugged. "Talk to them again."

He took a breath and allowed the dragonspeak to bubble up in him once more, only half paying attention to what he was saying as he listened to Branwen's griffin-cry beside him.

The creatures ignored them.

Branwen shook her head and stopped, and Merlin followed suit. "That's no good. We're both still just speaking the individual languages. They're layering rather than blending."

"So how do we blend them?"

"I'm not sure, but I think I can figure it out." She twined her fingers with his. "Try again."

He did, but this time, instead of hearing her voice, he felt her magic press against his dragonlord gift. It felt strange and he was sure that his magic would've lashed out had it been anyone but her.

But it didn't. Rather, it shifted and stretched oddly to accommodate her. Then she opened her gift within his and it was as if a flower had bloomed inside of him. He wished he could take the time to examine the sensation more fully, to explore this part of her that he had known about but had never, in all their long years together, experienced directly.

Then he heard her voice – a high, sweet counterpoint to his, resonating in both his ears and his magic. And then the note changed, surprising him. And changed again, and he realized that it was a melody set against his dragonspeak, which had taken on a rhythmic, chanting quality.

They were singing to the dragons.


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur stared.

While he had suggested the combined communication, it was really a last-ditch idea that he wasn't even sure would work. He certainly never expected the sounds that now filled the room. He was sure he'd never heard anything so hauntingly beautiful in either of his lives.

Then he noticed that he wasn't the only one entranced.

Both of the dragons were still, facing Merlin and Branwen, heads swaying and eyes half-lidded in bliss.

He descended and approached the green-and-gold cautiously, relieved when she ignored him. This was his chance to put an end to the threat that these creatures posed. But now, outside of the heat of battle, he found himself strangely hesitant. The hybrids were unique, and beautiful in their own way. And as demented as Draconis had seemed, Arthur couldn't help but admire the talent and tenacity he'd exhibited to bring them to life.

He sighed. As much as he regretted the fact, Merlin was right. These creatures had no place in the world. They only way he could honor them was to make their deaths and quick and painless as possible. He pressed the edge of his blade against the dragon's neck and looked up at Merlin for a final confirmation. The dragonlord hesitated for just a moment, and then nodded. Arthur thought he saw a tear make its way down Branwen's face before he turned back. He whispered, "I'm sorry," then sliced deep.

She didn't react at all, but her head drooped lower and lower as her lifeblood drained away, until it was resting on the floor, eyes still fixed on the singing couple. Arthur bent his head in reverence a moment before going to the red-and-purple and repeating the process.

It was only after the dragons' lives had completely drained away that Merlin and Branwen ceased their singing. Merlin felt Branwen's magic withdraw and the sudden loss of that intimacy had him pulling her into his arms and kissing her fervently. Judging from her own ardor, it seemed she felt the same. Merlin only drew back when he felt her knees start to buckle, remembering suddenly her captivity and unnatural drain on her magic.

"Are you alright?"

She smiled softly at him. "Just tired."

"I'm so sorry. I should've thought –" his words died behind her finger on his lips.

"No apologies. We did what we had to do."

When he nodded, she removed her finger. "Now to see about these doors."

"No. The doors can wait a few more minutes. You need to rest," he eased her down to sit against the wall and produced his leftover breakfast, "and eat."

Her eyes lit up. " _Please_ tell me that Maudie made that."

He grinned. "She did, indeed."

She held out her hand in a gesture as imperious as any of Arthur's had ever been. "Give."

He undid the box spell and handed her the plate, watching affectionately as she dug in.

"Everything all right up there?"

"Yeah, we're good. You?"

Arthur waved the question away. "Minor damage."

"You're hurt?!"

"Relax. It's nothing major."

Merlin grinned. "Just enough to impress the ladies?"

Arthur turned and smiled at Jazmine, who had come up and nestled under his arm. "Seems like."

"Told you they'd get along," Branwen commented around a bite. She swallowed and handed the plate back to Merlin. "Thanks, love."

"Feel better?"

"Much."

"Ready to tackle these doors?"

She nodded and he pulled her to her feet. They made their way with Arthur and the twins back to the entrance stairs. The group waited patiently while Branwen slowly undid the magic keeping them in.

OoOoOoOoO

The next hours were spent making sure all of the kidnapping victims were unharmed and their families contacted. Merlin had apparated Gavin and Maudie to the building and they were making their way around the room, checking and double-checking the recovery progress.

Merlin noted that Jaxson was being particularly solicitous of one young woman, who smiled and blushed when he was near and who watched him with doe-eyed fascination when he wasn't. He also noted that Arthur and Jazmine rarely strayed far from each other and he was sure he'd witnessed at least one discreet kiss between the two.

For his part, Merlin was currently following Gavin's instructions to stay with Branwen. The healer had insisted that no magic would help her recover more quickly than Merlin's, and the warlock wasn't about to argue. He was grateful to be allowed some selfishness and just revel in Branwen's closeness.

He wasn't sure what the future might bring. He didn't know if Draconis would reappear (he wouldn't, if he knew what was good for him). But all of the missing people had been recovered, the threat of the dragon hybrids had been dealt with, and he had Arthur and Branwen back at his side. All was once again right with his world.

At least for the moment.

 _A/N: Well, that's it. Thanks for sticking with me! I'm pretty sure I'm actually finished with Merlin now._

 _Time to play with the Avengers, methinks. :)_


End file.
